Flushed
by Frohike
Summary: Casefile inspired by an article in the Weekly World News.


Flushed   
Author: Frohike  
Email: frohike51@aol.com  
Category: Case file/humor  
Rating: PG-13 for potty language  
Spoilers: A few recognizable references, but nothing that would qualify as a spoiler for any given episode.   
Disclaimers: The story you are about to read is based on actual events, as recorded in the Weekly World News. Names have been changed to protect the innocent. Characters you recognize belong to Chris Carter, 1013 Productions, FOX, etc. All other characters are mine. News quotes have been taken from the Weekly World News and BBC NewsOnline, with the names changed---but I think I covered that part already. The author is not responsible for any residual effects this story may have on the sensitive reader, so proceed with caution.  
Distribution: Ask nicely first. I haven't turned anyone down yet.  
Feedback: Is the plunger that unclogs the plumbing in my heart. If you must send flames, please be caustic; there are certain arteries that could probably use the lye infusion.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**Another day in the basement  
Washington, DC  
10:37 AM**

Scully tossed the file down on the table. "No, Mulder. Absolutely not."

"How can you dismiss this case out of hand? There are witnesses, solid evidence, medical records, police reports, what more do you want?"

"Common sense, Mulder. Short of this happening to a group of people related to Eugene Victor Tooms, this is physically impossible. The average opening they'd have to travel through is what, three, maybe four inches in diameter? It's simply not possible."

"Well, officials in Bermuda have thirty-eight people all willing to provide evidence to the contrary. Regular people, not genetic mutants." Mulder got up from his desk and walked over to her. He picked up the file and flipped to the profiles of the victims. "Look, a stewardess, a mail carrier, a school teacher, a cable repairman, four plumbers, a priest who tried to exorcise it and even an ordained minister, to name a few. Regular people with ordinary jobs."

"Mulder, I would hardly qualify the Reverend I.C. Yu-pee of the Brother Love Church of Eternal Salvation, an ordinary person."

"Just because he doesn't belong to a widely known, conventional religion, doesn't mean he's not an ordinary Joe, Scully," Mulder protested.

Scully crossed her arms and stared at him. "The man performed marriage ceremonies for pets, need I say more?"

"Fine, forget Reverend Yu-pee. We still have thirty-eight individuals, who disappeared from the same apartment in Chicago, between 1978 and 1982. That, alone, is worth investigating, don't you think?"

"Yes, it is." Scully conceded. "But Mulder, you can't seriously believe that these people were victims of," she leaned forward and grabbed the newspaper clipping from the file and pointed to the headline, "the 'toilet of terror'."

Mulder walked to the file cabinet and began rummaging. He plucked a folder from the drawer and pulled out an article. "BBC News, March 20, 2000. Patrons of York's Cock and Bottle Inn report the ghost of the Duke of Buckingham II haunts the ladies room. I'm quoting here, Scully, 'While alive, he had quite an eye for the ladies and in death he often appears in the toilets.'" He put the clipping on the table and pulled out another. "Here we go, Brooklyn, New York. Three plumbers disappear after working on the same toilet. 'Joseph Privy, 54, vanished without a trace after arriving to take care of a clog. Cops say, Privy--described by associates as stable and happily married--follows in the footsteps of two other workmen who've disappeared, the first in 1991, and the second in 1995.'"

He dropped the folder on the table and pulled out clipping after clipping, reading the locations aloud. "Balmoral Castle, Aberdeen, Scotland. An office building in Conquistero, Chile. County Sligo, Ireland. Christchurch, New Zealand. Madison, Wisconsin. Amity, New York. Tell me when to stop."

Scully held up her hands in resignation. "Stop. I give up. What's your point, Mulder?"

"My point, Scully, is that there is historical precedence for bathroom hauntings."

Scully grimaced and rubbed her forehead. "Promise me I won't have to spend the entire time wading through sewage."

"I promise."

"And you're paying my dry cleaning bill when we get back."

"Absolutely."

"Fine. When do we leave?"

**One day later  
La Trine Apartments, Chicago  
10:17 AM**

Belle Epoque sighed and scratched her backside. "Yeah, yeah, come on, you can see the apartment. What the heck, a coupla more marchers in the parade won't make any difference. I oughta start charging admission, at least that way the place would be making me some money instead of being an oversized broom closet."

"I'm sorry, Ms. Epoque, marchers in the parade? Have you had many law enforcement agencies investigating the disappearances?" Scully asked.

"You mean the cops? Nah, they haven't been out since the last one disappeared in '82. Ever since those folks turned up in Bermuda last week, there's been a steady stream of Lookie Loos and tabloid reporters. There was even a researcher from Russia come through to see if he could figure out how this toilet could have flushed these people away like that."

"Dr. Yuri Nall?"

Belle nodded. "Yeah, that's the guy."

"You know this man, Mulder?"

"Dr. Nall is a leading researcher in the field of earthbound black hole phenomena, Scully."

Scully looked skeptical. "A leading researcher in the field, or the only researcher in the field, Mulder?"

"He's a pioneer."

"Uh huh."

"If you don't need me for anything, I'd like to get back to my show," Belle said. "Don't you just love that Bob Barker?"

"Thank you, Ms. Epoque. I'm sure we'll be fine," said Scully. 

"Well all right, hon. Oh, if you need to go, you know, I'd take a walk over to the gas station across the street. Not that I put much stock in this silly story or anything, but better safe than sorry."

Mulder touched her shoulder and gently led Belle to the door. "We'll keep that in mind, Belle. If you move quickly, you might get back in time to see contestants spin the wheel."

Belle checked her watch. "Oh my goodness, it's about that time, isn't it? Lock that door behind you when you go, if wouldn't mind."

"We will," Mulder assured her. 

Belle waved as she hurried back to her apartment.

Scully smirked. "Spin the wheel, Mulder? I had no idea you were a fan of the Price Is Right."

"What can I say, Scully. I'm hopelessly in love with Carol Merrill."

Scully chuckled. "I hate to burst your bubble, but Carol Merrill was on Let's Make A Deal."

"Do I want to know how you knew that?"

"No. Before our IQs drop any lower, can we get on with this investigation?" Scully peered around the corner. "Unless I'm mistaken, the potty of peril is down here."

Mulder cracked a smile and followed her down the hall. The door to the bathroom was closed. Scully placed her hand on the knob and prepared to enter. Mulder put his hand on hers. "Shouldn't we knock?"

Scully threw her hands up in the air. "Be my guest, Mulder."

He reached out and rapped his knuckles on the wood. Both stepped back in surprise when a scuffling noise answered the knock. Mulder drew his gun, as did Scully. They stepped into position, with Mulder taking the door. He looked back at her and mouthed 'one, two, three', before turning the knob and throwing the door open. 

"MERREOW!" A very startled, scraggly alley cat raced past them, down the hall and out of the apartment. 

Scully slumped against the wall, closing her eyes to help regain her composure. 

"Are you all right?"

She opened her eyes and returned her weapon to its holster. "Yeah, I just had a killer kitty flashback."

Mulder chuckled, turned on the light and peered into the bathroom. "No rats this time." He stepped inside. "Nothing in here but your basic American Standard commode, sink and tub," he added. 

"Looks harmless," Scully said.

Mulder reached out and flushed the toilet, observing the water as it flowed down through the opening. 

"See anything interesting?" Scully asked.

"You packing any latex, Scully?" he asked, his eyes scanning the interior of the bowl.

She reached into her pocket, handed him a pair of gloves and watched as he proceeded to poke, prod and yes, almost caress the inside of the bowl. "Mulder, you're becoming just a little too intimate with that toilet bowl. Would you mind telling me what you hope to find? Or would the two of you like to be left alone?"

Mulder pulled his hands away from the bowl and stood up. He stripped off the gloves and dropped them in the trashcan. "Jealous?"

Scully glared at him.

"I was looking for a change in density, something to indicate how the opening could stretch to accommodate an adult."

"Find anything?"

"No, feels like a solid porcelain potty." He lifted the tank lid and inspected the ball cock and plunger, jiggling the handle to see if anything moved that wasn't supposed to move. When those checked out, he replaced the lid and flushed the toilet again. "I don't know, Scully. Everything appears normal."

"Lift the seat."

Mulder did as requested. "Looks like every other toilet. Are you thinking it might be pressure activated?"

"Actually, my first thought is still that this whole thing is utterly ridiculous, but pressure sensitivity did cross my mind. All of the people who disappeared were reportedly sitting on the toilet at the time of disappearance."

"Well, let's give it a shot." Mulder turned around and lowered his butt to the seat. He made a show of settling in, causing Scully to chuckle and shake her head. When nothing happened, he got up and shrugged. "Not my lucky day."

"What next, Mulder?'

Mulder flipped off the light as he exited the bathroom. "I have a few more questions to ask Belle, then we check out the sewer lines."

**Ten minutes later  
Belle's apartment**

"Oh, come in, come in." Belle motioned them back into her apartment. "Dr. Nall, those two nice FBI agents I was telling you about, are here." She turned back to face Mulder and Scully. "He just got here a few minutes ago. I was hoping you'd stop by on your way out."

Mulder and Scully rounded the corner and stopped dead in their tracks when they saw the man getting up from Belle's loveseat. 

"You!" Mulder growled. Scully put her hand on Mulder's arm and shook her head. "Not here, Mulder," she whispered.

Scully extended her hand toward Dr. Nall. "Nice to meet you, sir. Agent Mulder has been telling me about your research."

Dr. Nall raised his eyebrows and smirked. "You're familiar with my work, Agent Mulder?"

Mulder answered, through gritted teeth. "Yes. Perhaps you wouldn't mind sharing your findings with us, Dr. Nall."

"Of course." Dr. Nall turned to Belle. "Ms. Epoque, as always, it has been a pleasure. I'm sure the agents and I will be back again." He took her hand and kissed it. 

Belle blushed and fanned her face. "Oh, Dr. Nall. You're welcome here any time. You too, Agent Scully, Agent Mulder."

"Thank you, Ms. Epoque. We'll be back," Scully said.

Dr. Nall walked out of the apartment first, with Mulder and Scully close behind. As they rounded the corner, Mulder grabbed the man and threw him against the wall. 

"Krycek, you son of a bitch! What are you doing here?"

"Same thing you are, Mulder," Krycek gasped. "Trying to figure out what happened to these people."

Mulder reared back then hit Krycek with a mean right hook. Krycek slid down to the ground, in pain. Mulder's leg moved back, preparing to kick the fallen man. 

"I have information you might be interested in," Krycek said, as he tried to prepare himself for the coming impact. 

Mulder ignored him, landing a swift kick to Krycek's right hip.

"Damn it, Scully! Will you call off your dog?" Krycek yelled.

Scully grabbed Mulder's arm. "That's enough. Let's hear him out." She let go of him and extended her hand to help Krycek up. "This better be good, Krycek, because I have a few frustrations I wouldn't mind working out on your sorry ass."

Krycek leered at her. "Why, Scully, I had no idea," he said, gently stroking the back of her hand with his thumb. The leer was quickly wiped from his face as Scully pulled back the one hand and smashed the other into his nose. Krycek groaned and slumped against wall, before sinking to the ground again.

Mulder's eyes widened. "Scully!"

"Don't start," she warned. "Pick him up and let's get out of here before someone calls the police."

**Pathek's Indian Restaurant  
Forty-five minutes later**

"I'll have the chicken vindaloo and a bottle of Flying Horse," Krycek said to the waiter. 

Scully shook her head. "He'll have a Coke instead," she said, ignoring Krycek's huff. "I'll have the Punjabi curry and an iced tea, please." She turned to her left. "Have you decided yet, Mulder?"

"I'll go with the chicken tikka masala and an iced tea," he answered. "Oh, and an order of papadum," he added. 

The waiter nodded and scurried off to place their orders with the kitchen.

"Now, why are you here and what is this information you have for us?" Scully asked.

Krycek leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "All right. I'm here looking into the disappearance of John Giblin, the original occupant of the apartment you're investigating."

"What's your interest this man?" Mulder asked.

"John Giblin is a direct descendent of Albert Giblin, the man who invented the siphonic discharge system that allowed toilets to flush effectively when cisterns were only half full."

"Wait, I thought that Thomas Crapper invented the flush toilet," Scully said.

"You and countless others, Scully," Krycek replied. "Actually, Crapper did hold a number of patents for plumbing products, including a valve and siphon system, but the origin of the flush toilet dates back to the sixteenth century, possibly earlier than that. Crapper happened to have his name on so many toilets and toilet products, that his name became synonymous with the flush toilet."

Mulder rolled his eyes. "Fascinating. What does this have to do with you being here?"

"John Giblin was an original member of the group your father worked with, Mulder. In the early 60's he discovered evidence of alien technology being used in a portion of 

the sewer system in Chicago. It was his belief that the rebel faction was using the original sewer lines as a mode of transportation from one area of the country to another."

"Oh brother," Scully grumbled.

Krycek chuckled. "I know how ridiculous it sounds, but hear me out. After spending considerable time combing through the blueprints and plans for the original sewer system, Giblin came to the conclusion that the La Trine apartments were situated perfectly over the most likely portal. He left the group and moved here to prove his theory. He was the original occupant of apartment 814, until February of 1978, when he vanished. After six months, the management cleared out his belongings and put the apartment up for rent. The next tenant disappeared in October of 1978, starting off your string of thirty-eight missing persons." He stopped when the waiter came by with their drinks and papadum.

Scully smiled at the waiter and thanked him. The waiter smiled back and left his customers to their conversation.

"Giblin's name isn't on the list of returnees," Mulder said. "Why the sudden interest in his whereabouts?"

"Precisely because he isn't among the returnees," Krycek answered. "Thirty-nine people disappeared from this apartment under mysteriously similar circumstances, yet only thirty-eight returned. We believe that John Giblin is not only alive, but has learned how to use the sewer system the way the aliens intended."

Scully sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose in an attempt to stave off the ache she felt starting to creep into her sinuses. "You can't be serious."

Mulder washed down his papadum with a sip of iced tea and leaned forward. "What are you basing this belief on?"

"You wanna share those?" Krycek asked, pointing to the plate. "Thanks," he said when Mulder pushed the plate closer. He popped a papadum into his mouth, took a drink and continued. "I found Giblin's papers."

"How? Where did you get them?"

Krycek grinned. "It was easy. Most of Giblin's personal effects are still in storage at La Trine. The furniture and larger items were sold off to pay the back rent years ago, but the original landlord thought that a family member might come looking for his personal belongings, so they were boxed and put away. Apparently, no one ever thought to ask after he disappeared and the boxes continued to collect dust." He paused long enough to eat another papadum and take another sip of his Coke, secretly delighting at Mulder's obvious impatience. "Anyway, I asked Belle if she knew anything about the history of the apartment and she mentioned that there were some boxes with Giblin's name on them down in the basement. One thing led to another and now I have the papers."

Scully's jaw dropped. "You didn't seduce that poor woman."

Krycek sighed and shook his head. "No, I did not seduce Belle. And before you ask, Mulder, I didn't do anything to the real Dr. Nall, either."

"You mean there really is a Dr. Yuri Nall?" Scully asked. "I was sure that name had to be a joke."

"Sorry to disappoint you, Scully," said Mulder. "There really is a Dr. Nall."

"What were his parents thinking?" she asked of no one in particular.

Conversation ceased as the waiter returned with their lunches. He refilled Mulder and Scully's glasses and asked Krycek if he needed another drink as well. Krycek nodded and handed the waiter his glass. They began eating, keeping the conversation to the niceties, until after the waiter returned with the fresh drink.

"All right, so where are these papers?" Mulder asked. 

"Back at the hotel. Relax. I'll take you there after lunch and you can see them for yourself."

Mulder stared at him. "Just like that?"

"Yeah, Mulder, just like that. I need your help. Why do you think I sent that file?"

"You sent the file?"

Krycek snorted in disbelief. "Jesus, Mulder, didn't you look at the return address? Arntzen? I thought that would be a dead giveaway." He took a sip of his soda. "You're slipping, old man."

**Kohler Place Hotel  
2:35 PM**

Scully sat at the desk in Krycek's room and read Giblin's reports on the chemical analysis of the toilet's porcelain. "Mulder, the composition of this toilet is identical to that of the alien craft I found in Africa."

Mulder dropped the blueprints of the sewer on top of her papers. "Look at this. The La Trine feeds right into the original sewer system, just like he said. I don't know, Scully, this toilet transport theory is beginning to look like it might hold water."

"There's still nothing in here that fully explains how this is supposed to work." Scully sighed in frustration. "These diagrams don't seem to match up with anything on the sewer blueprints. There's no science to support his assertions. It's like that old cartoon of the scientist writing his formula on the chalkboard and inserting 'then a miracle occurs' to explain how he got from point A to point B."

Krycek groaned and forced himself up off the bed. "Look, he may not have left you step-by-step instructions, Scully, but his journal documents the number of trial runs he made using cats, before attempting to go through himself. He made four runs personally, all successfully placing him where he wanted to go, before he disappeared. I'm sorry it's not scientifically correct enough for your purposes, but the anecdotal documentation does support his assertions that the sewer system was designed for applications beyond moving human waste."

"As much as I hate to admit it, he's got a point," Mulder said. 

Scully folded up the blueprints, then tidied up the other papers and put them back in the file folder. "Let's go," she sighed.

"Where?" Krycek asked.

"Back to your natural habitat," Scully smirked. "Lead on McRat, your sewer awaits."

**Chicago sewer system  
4:55 PM**

Krycek shined his flashlight on the map. "OK, if I'm reading this right, this should be the main outlet from the La Trine."

Scully put her hands on her hips and surveyed the area. "All right, even if I could buy the transport theory, I'm still unclear as to how it could work. If the wastewater is dumped here, how could the traveler end up in the Bermuda Triangle?"

"That must be where your 'miracle' occurs, Scully." Mulder said. 

"Maybe we're being too literal," Krycek added. "Nothing in Giblin's papers states that the sewage 'pipes' are actually involved; he just says that the lines lead into the original sewer system. Maybe it's the location of the toilet and not necessarily the actual pipe work that sits over the portal."

"Are you saying that the toilet itself has some sort of navigational device? That it can be programmed for specific destinations?"

Krycek shrugged. "You got a better explanation, Scully?"

**La Trine Apartments  
8:45 PM**

"You're sure you wanna to spend the night here?" Belle asked, as she unlocked apartment 814. "The place ain't exactly the Ritz-Carlton."

Krycek flashed her a sweet smile. "Ah, but the Ritz-Carlton doesn't offer such charming management."

Belle blushed and Scully rolled her eyes. "Oh, brother," she muttered under her breath.

"Well, all right then. If you need anything, you know where I am," Belle said.

Mulder frowned at Scully, then gently guided Belle toward the door. "Thank you, Ms. Epoque. We do appreciate your cooperation."

"You're welcome Agent Mulder, have a good night. You too, Agent Scully." Belle smiled broadly and gazed at Krycek. "Sleep well, Dr. Nall."

Mulder locked the door behind her, then turned to his companions. "All right, let's get started."

****

2 hours later

"I give up," Scully said, as she tossed her gloves in the trash can. "You two can keep staring at the lachrymose latrine; I'm going to go reread Giblin's journal. He talks about experiencing some odd physical changes after each of his trips. There's something familiar about them, but I can't quite put my finger on it."

Mulder nodded. "I'll be in soon. Maybe I can help."

"Why don't you go now, Mulder?" Krycek asked. "I don't think we're going to find anything tonight and besides, I really need to pee."

"Sure you want to take that chance?" Mulder asked.

"We've flushed this damned thing half a dozen times and nothing's happened," Krycek said. "I'm willing to risk it."

Mulder nodded. "I'll be right outside, just in case."

"Of all the times I could have used your help, you choose now to get protective?" Krycek pushed Mulder out of the room and put his hand on the door. "Piss off, Mulder; toileting is one skill I've mastered," he added, as he closed the door in Mulder's face.

Krycek walked back to the commode, lifted the seat, unzipped and relieved himself. He used the remaining sheets of toilet paper and looked in the cabinet under the sink for another roll. Finding one stashed there, he removed it and stepped back to replenish the dispenser. As he pulled back on the spindle, a roaring sound filled the air and he could feel himself being sucked toward the john. Krycek dove into the tub and held on to the side for dear life.

Scully and Mulder, hearing the fracas, jumped up and ran to the bathroom door, guns drawn.

"Krycek?" Scully yelled, but heard no reply over the din.

Mulder tried to open the door but found it impossible. He pointed his gun at the knob and was about to shoot, when the noise stopped.

Scully banged on the door. "Krycek?" No answer. She tried again. "Alex?"

Mulder turned the knob and this time the door opened easily. He peered into the room and saw Krycek, eyes wide, hair in disarray, still clutching the side of the bathtub. 

Scully holstered her weapon and went over to check on Krycek. "What happened?"

Krycek was having trouble finding his voice, until saw Mulder bend over to pick up the spindle. "No!" he yelled, when Mulder started to put the spindle in its rightful spot. 

Mulder stopped in his tracks then turned his attention to the spindle and the toilet paper holder. "Scully, I think he's located the controls." 

Scully stood, confident that Krycek was all right, and went over to Mulder. 

Mulder handed her the spindle. "Look," he said, pointing to the right side of the holder. 

Inside the fitting for the spindle, Scully could see a circle of tiny buttons. A few of the buttons were lit and flashing. With the spindle in place, no one would have noticed they were there at all. 

"Exactly what did you do?" Mulder asked Krycek.

Krycek sat on the edge of the tub and ran a hand through his hair in an effort to put the strands back in place. "After you left, I used the toilet. The toilet paper needed to be replaced, so got a new roll out from under the sink. When I pulled on the spindle, all hell broke loose. I felt like I was being sucked toward that thing," he said, pointing to the potty. "I jumped into the bathtub and held on until you two came in."

Scully leaned over and picked up the roll of toilet paper. "Interesting. The suction must be directed above the toilet. In all the case histories, nothing below the bowl was disturbed. Did you feel like you were being pulled back toward the bowl after you got down in the tub?"

"To be honest with you, I wasn't really paying attention at that point," he admitted. "My thoughts were pretty much along the lines of 'oh shit, I don't want to end up in the Bermuda Triangle with the rest of those losers'."

"At least this explains why nothing happened when we flushed," Mulder said. "And possibly why not everyone who changed the roll set the mechanism in action."

"What do you mean?" Krycek asked.

Mulder pointed to the holder. "You pulled the spindle to the right, didn't you?"

Krycek thought about it a second, then nodded.

"That's what I thought. The lights are only on the right-hand side." He took the spindle from Scully. "I'm betting that if you had pulled the spindle to the left," Mulder inserted the spindle in the left-hand side of the holder, ignoring Scully and Krycek as they dropped to the floor. "Nothing would have happened," he finished, as he snapped the spindle into place. Mulder pulled the spindle back against the left-hand side twice more, to prove his point. 

Scully rose from the floor and brushed off her jeans. "Great, that explains what activates the toilet of terror. Any thoughts on how to deactivate it?"

"Deactivate it?" Krycek asked, looking at her in disbelief.

Mulder frowned. "Let me guess, this is the part where you draw your gun and tell us that you're planning on taking this technology back to the Consortium or whoever it is you're working for this week?"

Krycek scowled at him. "Fuck you, Mulder. I'm flying solo on this one." He got up and dusted himself off. "What I was going to say is that I think we should destroy the donicker of doom."

Scully chuckled. "Donicker of doom?"

"Hey, you're not the only one with a flair for alliterative phrases," Krycek snapped.

"How do you suggest we go about destroying it?" Mulder asked.

Krycek reached into his jeans pocket. Scully's hand dropped to her gun in response. 

"Calm down, Scully," Krycek said, rolling his eyes. "I'm just reaching for this." He pulled out a Swiss army knife and showed it to her. Then he pulled up the screwdriver and walked over to the toilet paper roll holder and crouched down to look underneath. 

Mulder's brow furrowed in confusion. "What are you doing?"

Krycek located the holding screw and began to undo it. "I'm removing the fixture; what does it look like I'm doing?" A couple of turns later, he was able to pop it from the bracket completely. "See? Piece of cake."

Mulder touched the fixture. "That's it? That's the whole apparatus?" 

"Looks that way. Hold on, let me take the bracket off the wall, just to be sure." Krycek unscrewed the plate, but found only paint-covered drywall underneath. He poked a few extra holes into the drywall, for good measure. "That's it, Mulder. Move, I'm going to take the other side off, too."

A few minutes later, Krycek stood up. He tossed both parts to Scully, who glared at him as she caught them in mid-air. 

"Now what?" she asked.

"I say we flush them," Krycek answered.

"Flush them?" Mulder and Scully replied, in unison.

"Sure, think about it. The controls are still set for the Bermuda Triangle, so we know where the damned thing will end up. Chances are it will sink to the bottom of the ocean, never to be seen again. If we're real lucky, the mechanism will rust and become totally useless within a matter of months, so even if it is found in a few years, it'll be useless."

Mulder frowned. "I don't know, Krycek."

Krycek sighed. "We can't exactly blow it up without being conspicuous, Mulder, and I don't particularly want to carry this thing around, you know? If we flush it, the toilet becomes nothing more than a standard crapper again and all we'll have to do is leave Belle a few bucks to pay for patching the drywall and replacing the fixture. Problem solved for everyone."

Scully shrugged. "Makes sense, Mulder."

Mulder nodded. "Let's do it."

"All right," Krycek said. He put the inactive end of the holder into the toilet and reached for the spindle. "Get down, unless you want to a quick trip to Bermuda."

Mulder and Scully dropped to the floor.

Krycek got down on the floor next to the toilet. He carefully pushed the spindle against the control panel and waited. The roaring sound filled the air once again, and as it reached it's loudest point, Krycek tossed the spindle and control panel into the air. They all watched as it hung in the air briefly, before being sucked into the vortex.

When all was calm, they slowly rose from the floor. 

"Is it gone?" Scully asked.

"I think so," Krycek answered.

"We could always do a test flush," Mulder suggested.

Scully and Krycek stared at him, then turned and walked out of the bathroom.

"It was just a thought," Mulder muttered. 

**Back in the basement  
Two weeks later**

"You know Mulder, there's still something about the Chicago case that bothers me?"

"Why Krycek was there?"

Scully chuckled. "He's one mystery I've given up on. No, I'm still trying to figure out what would have caused Giblin's physical changes. I checked with the doctors in Bermuda and not one of the returnees showed any of the same symptoms Giblin described in his journal."

"So?"

"What he describes sounds like a fungal growth of some kind. In his last entry, he says that it was covering most of his body, distorting his hands, feet and face. Mulder, not only do I believe that this man isn't alive anymore, without medical treatment, he would have died a lonely and painful death."

**Morgan Glen Sanitarium  
Newark, New Jersey**

James rolled the bucket and mop down the corridor. "OK, Darin, last stop on the slop tour."

"How come the lights are out down here?" Darin asked.

"This one doesn't much like the light," James answered. "Real freak show stuff in here. I guarantee you never seen anything like this before. He used to try and attack people, but they have him pretty well sedated. Never caused me any trouble, but you always want to be careful."

Darin rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, I've heard that before. What's so special about this guy?"

James grinned. "You'll see." 

He opened the door and pushed the bucket inside, with Darin trailing close behind.

"Where is he?" Darin asked.

James pointed to the other side of the room. "Over there, behind the pipe."

Darin took a few steps toward the pipe, then jumped back in horror. "Fuckin' hell! What is that?"

"Told you, you never seen anything like it."

"Damn, it looks like those flatworms I had to dissect in high school!"

James shrugged. "Yeah, someone else said the same thing a few years back. All I know is that the doctors here say it's a man, or at least it used to be. Poor bastard."

Darin inched back a little more. "Does it, I mean, does he talk?"

"Never heard him make a sound. Only seen him out from behind the pipe a couple of times. He pretty much stays over there, just staring. This is the only thing that ever gets a rise out of him."

James walked to the corner of the room and flushed the toilet. The creature fell to the floor and covered its head.

"He won't move until the room's quiet again."

Darin furrowed his brow. "That's really weird. I wonder why a flushing toilet would freak him out so much."

"Who knows? I try not to flush the damned thing more than once a week. Guy's got enough problems without us coming in and torturing him, you know? Come on, let's get this place mopped, so we can blow this pop stand and grab a beer."


End file.
